by Kevin Taylor
The road that lies below rests deep and still. No moon to light the snow. The sky is clear. Heads back and arm in arm—Eyes wide! This winter night—This holiness we feel!
So spill the lights of Heaven into sight: Illumined, rising, falling, shifting grace. Upon the starry sweep of Christmas night, In ribbon-folds of light and dark it sways
Above the shepherd pines and hemlock choirs. There— This night! The sky! The lights! The stars! The fire! Above! Across! Dear God—